


Caramel Milkshake

by archerbellamy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, One Shot, just cute milkshake fluff, short and sweet, waiter bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:55:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7695565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archerbellamy/pseuds/archerbellamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Out of curiosity though, why do you keep bringing them here?” A smirk plays on his face, clearly challenging her impeccable dating style.<br/>“I like the milkshakes.”<br/>“You order the worst ones every time.” He’s not wrong. "Caramel is where it's at."</p><p>or the one where Clarke brings all of her dates to a diner and they all end horribly. A certain waiter feels bad and decides to make it up to her. Pretty short, meant for a quick sweet read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caramel Milkshake

**Author's Note:**

> creds to this twitter acc that posted the prompt! I don't remember where it was, but creds to you, wonderful being

There was something inexplicably horrible about this diner. She brought dates morning, evening, or to finish the night. So, it had to be the diner. Or maybe it was just her. Maybe it was that she didn’t convince all of her dates with the random activist discussions brought up from her revolutionary soul, and that she didn’t exactly simmer them down enough with light-hearted jokes. Maybe she was just too much and she should just smile more, compliment more. Nope, it had to be the milkshakes. Definitely had to be the milkshakes.

Her third date in two weeks had just left. Becca seemed to be a good fit for Clarke, as she was a biology major just like herself. But, alas, Becca seemed to squirm when Clarke didn’t just turn out to be the soft-spoken girl who read during her free time as often suspected. Clarke supposed maybe she laughed too loud, talked too much, went too fast from topic to topic because Becca had no problem making an excuse that she had to study when there were no tests they had left. She thought this was a pretty nice way to end a date at night. At least it wasn’t as direct as the conflict she had with Andres, a problematic pig who she had a very loud conversation with on how he shouldn’t be studying for any sort of profession that involves people. Let’s not even get to Elijah or that one girl who basically rejected her by standing her up before they even spoke.

Clarke buries her head into her hands, letting her blond hair hide her embarrassment. She feels her cheeks tint because as much as she wants to believe she is confident with who she is, and she doesn’t need to change for anyone, she still feels a little hurt at the lack of success. Clarke does not handle anything less than success well.

The clinking sound of a glass platter is set in front of her and she flinches up. Looking at her is a waiter. He has dark curly hair and a pitiful look on his face. She looks at what he’s placed and discovers it’s a glass of milkshake.

“Oh no, I didn’t order a milkshake-” she begins before he interrupts.

“It’s alright,” he says, getting a straw from his apron and dipping it in. “It’s on the house.” He shows a small smile and picks up the extra plates before leaving. Suddenly, she’s red. If he’s pitying her, he must know how many dates she’s brought here. She didn’t even realize the staff would probably catch on. Halfway torn between wallowing in self-pity and pep talking herself, she sips her milkshake and closes her eyes. It’s caramel this time. She likes this one better.

Clarke glances up and sees the boy cleaning the table next to her. She is grateful for his kindness but her pride is wounded. Looking around the room, she makes sure no one is around to hear her next words.

“Hey, thanks, but I don’t need the pity.” The boy looks up at her, down at the milkshake, and then laughs to himself, continuing to clean the top of the table. Clarke feels herself turn red again, maybe with annoyance this time.

“Yet you’re still drinking the milkshake?”

“Hey, a free milkshake is a free milkshake.” He turns to her, smiles and nods his head.

“You’re welcome, by the way.” He turns back to the table. Oh man. She forgot to thank him.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” she fumbles, “Thank you. I’m just- I’m sorry. I’m a little frustrated tonight is all.” She turns away from him and takes another sip.

“It’s alright.” A pause. “I’m sorry your dates haven’t worked out by the way.” She lets out a breathy laugh and looks at him.

“Oh my god. How many of my infamous dates have you seen?” He finishes cleaning the table, throwing the towel over his shoulder, and takes a seat on the other side of the booth.

“Well, there was that one amazing guy who didn’t know how to give tips with the dreamy blue eyes,” he started. 

“Andres!” she laughed out. “God, I don’t even feel bad about that one.” Was he her waiter that time? How has she never noticed him before?

“Yeah, that one wasn’t exactly a winner. To be fair though, you did call him an idiot in several different ways.” They both laugh and she shakes her head.

“If you heard the things coming out of his mouth, you would too. Oh god, I must’ve been so annoying for these past weeks. I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” he says, “Out of curiosity though, why do you keep bringing them here?” A smirk plays on his face, clearly challenging her impeccable dating style.

“I like the milkshakes.”

“You order the worst ones every time.” He’s not wrong. “Caramel is where it’s at.”

She grimaces, “Again, I’m sorry if I bothered.”

“Like I said, it’s okay. It’s fun, I’m rooting for you.” While he had a playful look on his face, the sincerity in his voice touched her. Even though she didn’t notice him until now when no one else was in the diner, he noticed her and that meant everything. He had hoped for her. And somehow, that was what gave her back her strength. She smiles at him and feels herself soften to a level she didn’t believe was possible. Her eyes and her smiling lips are softening in a way that maybe is what Becca wanted. Under her own delusion, she wanted to believe that he was softening too. She could tell he was just tired though, as she observed his freckles and big brown eyes. It was almost midnight.

“I am not the most successful person to go on dates,” she says, “So if you’re rooting for me, it’ll be a while.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he says, “It’s probably just the vanilla milkshakes or something. Those are nasty and I get why no one would want to finish a date with those.”  She laughs a little and then looks around. He notices and points it out. “I’m closing for tonight, so technically I’m just waiting for you.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” Clarke is getting up and getting ready to leave before he places a light hand on her arm.

“Stop saying sorry.”

“Sorry, I-” He laughs. It’s a boyish laughter that makes her heart feel warm. She looks down at his hand that is still on her arm and he quickly pulls away. 

“So, um,” he clears his throat and says, “Do you want to maybe go eat dinner tomorrow? To make up for the assholes from these past two weeks and all.” He smirks but his cheeks hint at the embarrassment he had in asking and Clarke loves it. 

“Yeah sure,” she says with a smirk of her own hidden in her voice. “But it better be a big dinner to make up for not telling me earlier that vanilla milkshakes aren’t mood setters. Wasted a lot of time because of it.” He rolls his eyes but laughs to himself.

“Anything you want, Princess.” She wants to smack him. In an endearing way. “I didn’t get your name, by the way?” 

“Clarke Griffin.”

“Clarke Griffin,” he tries it out. “Bellamy Blake.”

She takes out her phone and types in his name. They exchange numbers and Clarke waits for Bellamy as he begins closing up the diner. When they both leave the diner, the cold air hits and Clarke can see her breath in the dark of the night. He turns to her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Definitely. We’re getting milkshakes here afterwards, right?”

“Only if it’s caramel.”

“It’s a date.” For a moment, they’re softly smiling at each other, both tired and hopeful. Bellamy nods and they turn around, walking towards their cars on opposite sides of the lot.

  
Sure enough, Clarke finally had a date that left her feeling good about herself. Part of it because frankly, he did not stop reminding her in bed that she was a princess and not in the ironic way he had hours before. The other part because he had continued to act like he did the night he met her. Intrigued and hopeful for her. Maybe it was herself, her revolutionary soul, that led Bellamy to becoming enveloped in her life; the way she stood up for her ideals despite feeling embarrassment and the way she never let herself give up despite it. Maybe it was the way she laughed too much and spoke too fast that led to him wanting to stay even after their hook up. Maybe it was the way she loved to talk about every topic that led him to wanting to stay days, weeks, years after their hook up. Nope, it had to be the milkshakes. Definitely had to be the milkshakes.


End file.
